


Le Maire de Montreuil

by Gharnatah



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 00:20:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20144419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gharnatah/pseuds/Gharnatah
Summary: In 1815. while on the run from Digne, Valjean stops by Marseilles for some rest but meets a most interesting boy.Very slight AU. Just alters some small events chronologically.





	Le Maire de Montreuil

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. This will be my debut on this site.  
I don't know what I feel about this story. It doesn't have a good flow to it and has issues with staying true to its themes, but I decided to just post it rather than continue editing every detail about it. Characters might seem out of character, but I'd rather just write a new story than fix this.  
I apologise in advance.

_ 1815 _

Marseilles was France’s premier city on the Mediterranean Sea, boasting a rich history starting from Greek settlers and barbarian invasions, to what it is to this day. The city has always been a busy port, sending goods too and from the various nations throughout the sea. Thus, the port had been home to all walks of the Mediterranean: Spanish and Turkish merchants, Italian smugglers, Barbary corsairs, and the like.

It is in this city of a thousand nationalities, that a certain convict by the name of Jean Valjean found himself passing through, while on the run from Digne. His crime was a minor one, petty theft, but for him - a convict - would land him a life sentence.

He looked over the horizon from his seat near the docks, at the silhouette of a fortification, far in the distance, but still visible. He had previously served his sentence in Toulon, but if he were caught again, he would surely be shipped off to an even worse place, such as that over yonder.

“You seem to be quite taken by that prison over there, sir,”

Valjean’s gaze shot to the side, where he met eyes with a young man. A very peculiar young man. He seemed to be of local stock and was dressed no differently from the other dockworkers and sailors: white trousers, red jacket, and a sailor’s shirt. He was young, very young. He seemed about the same age as when Valjean was first thrown in Toulon. Most importantly, his eyes contained the fire, the spirit of optimism.

“Is there something the matter, sir?”

“You are speaking to a living corpse. Leave me be,” Valjean’s voice was raspy, he hands not used it much at all since his first release, and as such, lacked the basic refinement of the common man.

“A Corpse you say? Why sir, I would imagine I would be speaking to a beggar.”

Valjean remained silent and glared at the boy.

“Are you looking for work, sir?”

To this, Valjean could only nod his head begrudgingly. He did need work, but no one would hire a convict, and neither would this boy’s boss, but it would be worth the try regardless. The boy smiled.

“My boss is looking for strong men to sail with us to the east, and as the newly appointed captain of his flagship, I would be-”

Valjean cut the boy off by pulling out his yellow passport.

“Oh, you’re a convict,” His smile faded.

“19 years, I’ve languished in the prison of Toulon, and in those nineteen years, I had lost everything, my family, my dignity, even my humanity. Now, lad, I will ask again, do you wish to hire a walking corpse?”

The boy took a step back, “Oh, I see, that’s what you meant by a walking corpse,”

Both remained silent. Valjean continued glaring at the boy, while the youngster very visibly seemed conflicted on how to respond, but did not seem to want to leave like most would in such a scenario.

“I… don’t believe I can ever share how you feel, sir, I’ve been too lucky recently to remember misfortune… but I’m sure things will look up for you, as they have for me if you just…”

“Just what?”

“If you just wait and hope?” He shrugged.

Valjean then let out the heartiest laugh he let out since before his imprisonment.

“Tell me, are you that stupid?” Valjean said, in a voice saturated with bitterness.

“Um… I was trying to be helpful, sir,”

“I suppose I am to wait for my imprisonment, and hope for a quick death, am I not?”

The boy remained silent.

“Let me tell you something, lad, in this world there are three kinds of people. Those that will never taste hardship, those that are damned, and those that are irredeemably stupid. Once you are in one of those categories, you can never change,”

“That’s wrong, people can change, for better or worse! No one is born damned, and no one has to resign themselves to that fate!" The boy spoke up, returning a glare of his own.

“You really are stupid, there is no redemption for a convict,” Valjean held up his yellow passport.

The boy shook his head, “The stupid one here is you, sir. Redemption is easy,” He snatched the papers from Valjean’s hand, “It begins with casting this into the sea!”

Valjean stood and took the papers back, “I admire your alacrity, but I am resolved to my fate. I have met another stupid person who told me to redeem myself, and he only ended up wasting his money on a vagrant,”

The boy gritted his teeth and looked down, “I was trying to help…”

Valjean sat back down at his seat and smiled, “I am also trying to help by giving you useful advice, there is no use in trying to change people. You will only run into stubbornness and conflict,” Valjean looked at the boy, without a glare this time, and continued, “You don’t need to kill a man’s spirit in order to kill him, you only need to take everything he loved. The man who rises from the ashes of that previous man is a completely different beast than what he once was,” Valjean recalled his own past, where the man Valjean died in that terrible prison in Toulon.

The boy looked up from his shoes and shook his head. He gave Valjean a fierce look before speaking, “I don’t agree with that, everyone can be redeemed, and anyone can go about this without having to kill who they previously were. I don’t know who you were 19 years ago, sir, but I can say it for a fact, that you are still the same man deep down. You can’t let something that happened in the past dictate how you live today, that only makes a man resentful,”

“And causes them to seek vengeance, correct?”

“Yes sir, exactly,” The boy stared back at Valjean with conviction.

The convict was taken aback. He heard these words before – not the exact same words, but the same sentiment – from the Bishop in Digne. But it finally took a child to drive home the point. Something about this made him feel… happy? No, he was still a wanted man, and he was still poor. Relieved? But none of his burdens had been lifted.

He was hopeful. Yes, that was it. The boy’s words filled him with a new sense of hope. Of course, he had lost everything, but just because he had lost everything, did not mean he had to give up on life. Why hate those who caused him so much pain and suffering, when he could move on and prevent his same misfortune from happening to countless others!

Valjean looked up to the sky and smiled the first genuine smile since his imprisonment, “So… is that it? To wait and hope? That is all one needs for redemption?” The boy nodded and smiled.

Valjean kept his gaze fixed to the clouds above the islands far in the distance, “I see, how… naïve,” Valjean erupted in another bout of heavy laughter, but without the bitterness of last time.

The boy sighed, as Valjean stood from his seat.

The convict walked over to the edge of the quay and tore up his yellow passport, letting it cast into the sea under the warm Mediterranean sun, all with a smile on his face.

He took a deep breath and turned around and faced the boy, who was standing with his hands folded behind his head, who grinned, happy that the man took his advice.

Valjean spoke up after a brief pause, “Thank you for speaking with me, lad, but I am hungry, and I must go,” Valjean went to pick up his bag from where he was once sitting.

“Ah, sir! Wait!”

Valjean stopped and looked back.

“I never got your name, sir,”

Valjean paused for a moment, and looked at the boy, “My name…” the redeemed man again relented, until finally, “My name is François Madeleine!” he said proudly.

The boy laughed, “Well met, Mister Madeleine, I am Edmond Dantès!”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, that is the Count of Monte Cristo, Edmond Dantes himself. I don't think I wrote Dantes well, at all, but whatever. It's best I just continue reading the book. Oh, by the way, the title of this story is a play on the title of Dumas' book. So shoutouts to anyone who noticed that. And yes, that is Chateau d'If that Valjean is starting at in the beginning.  
My intent with this story was to have these two literary titans meet where they are polar opposites, and have them both say things that lead the other down their canon life paths. (Valjean becoming the Atoner he is later in chronology, and Dantes becoming the revenge obsessed anti-hero)  
I don't think I wrote Valjean well either. I think he should be more conflicted here rather than a total cynic since this takes place after he runs from Digne due to stealing the Savoyard's coin.  
Thanks for reading. I will write more.


End file.
